


Sleepless Nights

by Scrotuscus



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Fluff, Hurt Alec Lightwood, There's always something with Jace and Clary I swear, concerned izzy, concerned jace, quick fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 06:59:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16080893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrotuscus/pseuds/Scrotuscus
Summary: Nothing good ever comes at three am, Magnus knows. The British come at three am. Life altering bad news comes at three am. Nightmares come at three am. Sometimes, babies come at three am. Not always a bad thing, in some people’s eyes, but Magnus isn’t overly fond of children. Especially not in the wee small hours of the morning. So when shadowhunters come pounding on his door well before sunrise, Magnus knows before he lifts himself from his soft canary yellow sheets that there’s nothing good on the other side.Magnus is woken to play nurse, and he's grumpy about it. But, anything for his Alexander.





	Sleepless Nights

Nothing good ever comes at three am, Magnus knows. The British come at three am. Life altering bad news comes at three am. Nightmares come at three am. Sometimes, babies come at three am. Not always a bad thing, in some people’s eyes, but Magnus isn’t overly fond of children. Especially not in the wee small hours of the morning.  
So when shadowhunters come pounding on his door well before sunrise, Magnus knows before he lifts himself from his soft canary yellow sheets that there’s nothing good on the other side. He hears Jace shouting his name through the wood of his door before he pulls it open. And there it is; Alec is slung over his brother’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and his heart falls to his knees and his stomach steels itself against the waves of panic that sweep through him. No time for that now, he knows, and he’s far too old to fall apart at the sight of his wounded boyfriend (outwardly, anyway).  
“We thought we were just going to kill demons,” Jace says, eyes wide and face pale as he shoves past Magnus into the loft, Alec’s hands dangling down by his knees. “It was routine. It was a perimeter check.” Magnus eye’s as much of Alec as he can while Jace’s rune propelled legs carry him over the couch in record time. He can’t see anything obviously wrong, other than Alec being unconscious.  
Isabelle follows after her brothers and Magnus steps back to make room for her. He hadn’t seen her standing behind Jace, but he’s not shocked. Anything the Lightwood siblings get into, they get into together, somehow. He looks out into the hall, because where Lightwood siblings are…  
And yes, Clarissa is there by the stairs, a Seraph blade hanging loosely in her grip as she leans against the wall. Her eyes are wide, vacant, and directed at the floor. Simon is leaning over her, talking to her quietly. Urgent concern covers his face, and he’s the only one to look up to meet Magnus’ eyes. Magnus cares for Clary, quite a bit, but everything has a time and place, and there are more pressing matters if Clary is physically unharmed. He jerks his head inside the loft, making meaningful eye contact with Simon, who nods back, understanding. He grabs one of Clary’s shoulders and leans back down to talk to her in a quiet voice. Magnus lets the door close and turns back to his living room.  
Alec is limp and splayed on the couch. His face is even more pale than his brother’s, and there is a thin sheen of sweat over his forehead. His face is relaxed, but that brings no comfort, especially when Magnus see’s Jace and Izzy on their knees, Jace by his head, patting him on the cheek to stir him, and Izzy with her lower lip caught harshly between her teeth, her hands clasped so tightly around Alec’s hand that her knuckles are white.  
“Alec,” Jace is saying, loudly, “Come on, Alec, wake up.”  
“Tell me what happened.” Magnus says, voice low as he comes up between them. They move away to give him room, and he begins to use his magic to scan Alec’s body even before they begin to answer.  
“There were Circle members there,” Izzy spits, “not demons. Our intel was bad. And our gear, I don’t know. But it was a trap. Jace went ahead, but that was the plan, they were after him, and they had something…a kind of spell ready. A warlock was with them, he did something. Alec put himself in harm’s way, he took the magic. He collapsed, and we can’t wake him.”  
Well, Magnus thinks as his hands move carefully in the air over Alec’s chest, at least he wasn’t wrong about three am calls. Truthfully, his heart is stuttering at the sight of his lover so limp. Fear forces a tremble to his fingers. But panic and rushing are not going to safe Alec’s life, so Magnus forces himself to keep using his head.  
“Tell me everything you can about the warlock and the spell,” he replies.  
“I’ve never seen him before,” Jace says, “A young looking guy. He said something, but it I didn’t catch what it was. The magic was red, and it hit Alec in the chest.” Distantly, Magnus is aware that his door opens and closes as Simon and Clary enter. They linger by the entrance, Clary holding one of her arms carefully against her chest.  
“And?” Magnus prompts. His hands reach Alec’s head, and his pauses in his magic to quickly card one of his hands through his lover’s hair. He can sense something inside of Alec, quickly moving but spread thin. It’s not a good thing.  
“And?” Jace spurts.  
“And what else?” Magnus tries to keep his frustration in check. He’s in nothing but sweatpants. He’s not even wearing makeup. It’s three fucking am. And Alec is dying on his couch. His Alexander, dying on his couch.  
“That’s it!” Jace throws his hands up, but his eyes are still so wild that Magnus begins to wonder if he’s useless.  
“venenum somnum,” Izzy blurts, a bit clumsily, “Poison, something. That’s what the warlock said. “Obstructionum…abscondam I don’t know!” And that just bodes even worse.  
“You tried an iratze.” Magnus surmises, already knowing the answer and its implications. Izzy nods.  
“It didn’t work.”  
“Okay,” Magnus nods. He licks his lips. Thoughts fly through is brain, through spells and rumors and warlocks who could perform such things. “Okay,” he repeats “I can fix this.”  
“You can?” Simon has come further into the loft now; some distracted part of Magnus is a bit annoyed that’s he’s having trouble keeping track of the situation.  
“Of course, Sampson.” Magnus lets his fingers drag over Alec as he rises from the couch and goes to his shelves. He grabs ingredients; fairy dust and pixie eyelashes, a fig leaf. “This isn’t a spell meant to kill, but it’s clumsy and dangerous. You were right to bring him to me right away.”  
“Not meant to kill?” Clary parrots incredulously. He turns to the table near the window that holds all of this potion mixing supplies, his back to the group, and rolls his eyes.  
“Mm-hm.” He says, focused on getting the proportions just right. A tad more werewolf blood, for healing, and the soon enough the potion is thrumming like heartbeat in his hands, vivacious and volatile. Should do to not only counter the sloppy spell on Alexander, might even bring him around for a moment or two. Which would be to check his mental cognition, Magnus carefully reminds himself as he sweeps back to the couch, not just to just to see the brilliant green shades of his eyes, as equally important as that feels.  
Alec, if he could, is only looking worse by the second. “If it isn’t meant to be deadly, why does he look like road kill?” Simon asks.  
“I did just tell you it was poorly done.” Is all that Magnus has time to say, maybe a bit harshly, as he tips Alec’s head back. Alec makes a choking sound deep in his throat, his next breath coming out as a wheeze. Magnus’ eyes narrow.  
“So we could just wait this out?” Jace asks.  
“Not what I said,” Magnus frowns at Alec. He curses under his breath, and notices Clary off to his right furrow her eyebrows at him. “Sorry, darling.” He says to Alec, “I won’t hold this against you.” He tips the potion back into his own mouth. The magic in it pulses through him and burns hot. He winces and tips Alec’s head back again. He plugs the shadowhunter’s nose, and presses his mouth to Alec’s in a tight seal. He uses his tongue to shove the potion down Alec’s throat. It’s not a kiss, and it’s about as hot as making out with a corpse, but he feels Alec reflexively swallow under his hands, and he leans back with a gasp. As he pulls away, blue sparks shoot between their lips. Magnus feels the glamor on his eyes fizzle a bit, and he blinks it back into place.  
“You do that for all of your clients?” Izzy asks, her eyes tired and strained, but her lips quirking.  
“It was that or force feed him,” Magnus replies, feeling the aftereffects of the potions stirring in his veins. “I wish I could say that was kinky, but it was a kindness.” Isabelle’s face falls, and she tightens her grip on her brother’s leg, where she hadn’t let go for a moment.  
Seconds later, Alec jerks violently. He gags, his hands spasming at his sides. Magnus immediately returns to using his hands, the blue flames in his palms pulling the foreign magic from his boyfriend in gentle tugs. It finally gives into Magnus’ desires, and a reddish residue drags upward out of Alec. Alec’s body arches as it leaves him, and he’s crying out and clenching his eyes shut. It’s over in a second. Magnus stands over him, holding a red ball of mal-intent between his palms. He squashes it in an instant, and feels the sharp pain as he absorbs it, diffusing it into nothingness. It leaves him blinking for a few moments, a sharp breath coming through his nose. Below him, Alec is coughing and stirring. His siblings are right back at his side, but not blocking Magnus out.  
“Alec,” Jace calls, “We’re here, you’re safe.”  
“Magnus?” Alec’s words are slurred, his eyes not even open, and Magnus raises an eyebrow in wonder.  
“He’s here, big brother,” Izzy says, “It’s over now.” Alec does open his eyes then, blinking around. He looks at Jace, giving him a messy once over.  
“You’re an idiot,” He blurts, “I told you.”  
“You did,” Jace admits, smiling, “Next time I’ll listen.” Alec huffs, and that seems to hurt, as he frowns and rubs a hand over his chest.  
“Fuck,” Alec murmurs. Magnus holds his hand back out to magic the pain away before he can even think about it, and Alec relaxes under it. He sighs, resting back against the cushions. “Thanks,” Alec says. Magnus hums back at him.  
“Thank the angel,” Isabelle sighs. “Thank you, Magnus.”  
“Of course,” Magnus says. He feels much more tired, suddenly. Even for three am. “A little self-interest goes a long way.”  
“What was that spell meant to do?” Jace asks. His jaw tight, his eyes shining. Magnus knows what self-blame looks like, and is not at all surprised at how quickly Jace is at getting around to it.  
“A very strong sedation, ideally.” Magnus says. Alec seems to be still coming in and out of awareness, but he’s no longer in danger. “Though it was cast sloppily. Probably your dear old dad looking for some more one on one.”  
“Our runes didn’t work,” Clary says, “Is that a part of it?”  
“Meant to keep you from waking him up,” Magnus nods. He sinks down to the ground next to the couch. He keeps his hand on Alexander, though, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. “You’re not an average shadowhunter, Jace, it was meant to be very potent.” Magnus lets his head rest near Alec’s elbow. “Think Sleeping Beauty, without any kissing.”  
“Mm, kissing,” Alec says dreamily, one of his hands finding the back of Magnus’ neck absently. Magnus smiles.  
“Well, at least we know that Valentine is still after you,” Clary says. And that, Clary talking, reminds Magnus of something. With a deep breath, Magnus lifts his head and begins to stand. Alec, seeming mostly asleep again, but with color creeping back into his cheeks, lets his hand fall without argument.  
“And you, biscuit,” he says, holding out his hand, “Let’s see that arm.” Clary turns her eyes away, and Jace straightens up.  
“Are you okay to do that?” She asks, “You look tired.”  
“High Warlock.” Magnus responds, “though I am low on patience.”  
“I’ll draw an iratze to help.” Isabelle moves to Clary’s side. It seems like a fair enough compromise. Clary hisses as the rune is placed, and when the rune’s glow dims, Magnus moves forward.  
“Here,” Clary points to her elbow, and Magnus grips either side of gently and lets his magic flow through the wound. It’s a strain, probably bent too far in the wrong direction. A regular shadowhunter battle thing.  
“Are you okay?” Jace asks her.  
“Magnus is healing me,” Clary replies shortly.  
“I know, but you’re quiet, which is not the godsend I’d thought it’d be.” Jace says. Clary bites back a smile, and she shakes her head.  
“Valentines men always have things to say to me about our father when we meet,” She replies, “And this time, Alec got hurt, and it was scary.” There’s more to it than that. Magnus doesn’t even need his four hundred years of experience to see it, but it seems there is always something going on with these kids these days. If Clary isn’t sharing, he’s not pressing.  
“It’s over now, everything’s okay,” Simon says, taking Clary’s hand and seeming to miss the point all together.  
“Yeah,” Clary agrees lamely, looking at Jace. So not Magnus’ problem. The sprain healed, Magnus turns back to Alec, whose brow is furrowed as he blinks at the ceiling. Magnus pets his head, and Alec’s eyes flutter closed.  
“I’ll see him through the night, to make sure there are no side effects.” Magnus says. “He can take my bed; the rest will be good for him. Should be right as rain after a good sleep and some breakfast.” If there was any kind of smart comments to be made about that, they go unspoken as Jace bends down to lift Alec’s arm over his shoulders. Alec grunts, head lolling, but together they make an awkward shuffle towards the bedroom. Magnus yawns suddenly. He looks at the clock in the living room. It’s nearly four now. What a terrible morning.  
“Now,” he stands, and brushes off his sleeping pants, “if that’s all you’ll be needing from me, I’ll bid you shadowhunters good day as I tend to your sick.”  
Simon nods as he and Clary move back to the door. Isabelle grabs Magnus’ arm briefly, kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you, Magnus.” She says again. Magnus smiles back at her. He’s always been fond of Izzy. “Should I expect him around ten?”  
“Make it one.” Magnus says, wiggling his eyebrows. Her smile is amused, exhausted, and grateful. She lets him go to move toward the door. Jace emerges from the bedroom, rubbing his parabatai rune absently. He thanks Magnus, his eyes directed and bright, with a clap on the shoulder. He laughs as Magnus frowns.  
“We’ll be in touch tomorrow about your payment,” he promises.  
“See that you are,” Magnus says absently. And finally, they are gone. For a moment, Magnus stands in the undisturbed quiet. He closes his eyes. He breathes. Alexander’s pale and slack face flashes through his mind, and his hands shake. His feet carry him to bedroom, where Alec rests. His chest falls in a steady rhythm, one arm curled on his chest, the other splayed over the bed. He’s tucked in, at the very least. Magnus moves to the other side, lifting the sheets to crawl in beside him.  
Alec would need no more seeing to tonight. Maybe for the pain, but he’s always been known to have a high tolerance for that, and he’d have to be awake to feel it, which Magnus doubts will be an issue. He wiggles under Alec’s open arm to press against him. Alec hums and pulls Magnus closer.  
“Sorry,” Alec says sleepily.  
“Good.” Magnus buries his face in Alec’s neck, “You scared me.”  
“I love you.” Alec sighs. “I could feel you. Fixing me.” Magnus sighs with him, unsurprised. It’s odd that Alec, even in a near death state, can recognize Magnus’ magic, but it’s not worth examining at this moment.  
“I love you, too.” He says softly, “Please stop dying at random times of night on my couch.”  
“You got it.” Alec smiles. Finally, he slips off into a deep sleep, leaving Magnus alone. Truly, he knows, nothing good comes at three am. It’s the enemy, or babies, or nearly dead boyfriends. And yet, as he curls closer and presses his body to warmth of his lover and his ear to a steady heartbeat, the sleep that comes back over him feels all that much better than the one he was woken from.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the read!! 
> 
> I have no idea where this fic falls timeline wise, I've just read a lot of magnus-fixes-it fics and wanted to take a crack at it myself.


End file.
